


Disposable People

by 1498xo



Category: 1498xo
Genre: Cheating, Drinking, F/M, Groping, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Netorare, Non-Consensual Groping, Older Man/Younger Woman, Smoking, Uniform Kink, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-16 10:20:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21269453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1498xo/pseuds/1498xo
Summary: Aimi is a rough tomboy with a drinking and smoking habit, though one hell of a volleyball player. In love with her, Eiji hopes they can move past it all and have a good relationship. An encounter with her fat old coach, Saburo, makes him question just how well he knows her.





	1. Chapter 1

From the first row of benches in the hall, Eiji got a perfect view of Aimi and the rest of the team fighting for their spot at the championship. Their tight-fitting volleyball uniforms were black streaked with red, with some brutal white stating their names at the back, giving them a rather militaristic, almost fascistic appearance. As they played, Aimi would scream harshly at her other teammates as a commander, stomping her strong legs to the ground. But as soon as she turned back towards him her eyes widened as if she stepped out of a trance, and she would either grin or wink at him disarmingly, occasionally reaching down to pull on the tight legs of the shorts that went further and further up her toned thighs until they had the appearance of boyshorts. 

During the break, she came over, sweat dripping from her boyish face. “We’re not going to win this one.” She unscrewed the cap from the water bottle and sloshed some water around her mouth before gulping it down audibly. “I hate my team.” 

Eiji knew so little about volleyball that he couldn’t even tell who was doing what wrong. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.” 

“You do that.” Aimi reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, and a pregnant silence settled in. Though they both knew they were together, the relationship itself had never been discussed out loud, and the few moments that turned physical were rare and far between. In truth, it was always Aimi who touched him out of the blue, as if she were standing at the edge of an abyss and contact with his body was one thing that could bring her back to reality.

“Well.” She smiled again. “I better go try and save this mess.” 

The brunette passed the water bottle to him and ran back on the court, the soles of her sneakers squeaking over the polished floor. Eiji held the water between his hands reverentially, feeling the lingering warmth of her spindly fingers, then took the cap off and ran his fingers along the rim where her full lips had been, bringing it up his own lips to connect them for a moment, and the thought of their two warmths meeting was enough to make him shiver. 

Eiji grew up being told that he had the sentimentality of a poet, but in truth he rarely felt much of anything at all. He was not a brooding type that struggled to make sense of his feelings, he was simply a confused soul that was honest enough to admit that he knew nothing about anything. To him, life was a mystery, but a boring one that could never be solved, like an unfinished manga with an author turned lazy otaku. He did things that needed doing, but very rarely did it occur to him to try harder than that. 

It was only when Aimi came screeching into his life like an out of control train that he could say that he got a real interest in something for the first time. He had seen her in class plenty of times, but then she was only the tomboy that came in late so that the teacher to point out the scent of booze that hung around her. Under pressure she would always crack jokes, very bad ones that made the whole class laugh at her rather than with her, a pitiless cackle that made him cringe even before he knew her by name. 

One day Eiji was coming home from a short shift at the convenience store and went to the bus stop when he saw a shadowy, solitary figure sitting on the bench, a beer warming up between her thighs, while a cigarette was placed on the other side of the bench, almost like a companion, smoke curling from its tip into the wintry night. He had looked away then as he always did from any potential conflict, though she soon stood up and came to stand next to the edge of the platform. “You’re from my class,” she stated, taking a drag from her cigarette. 

“That’s true. Eiji.” 

She bobbed her head. “I remember. Do you remember my name?” 

He blushed and tried to shake off the embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m very bad with names.” 

“Not like it matters.” She let the smoke drift from her open mouth as she looked up expressionless at the powerlines. “I’m drunk.” 

“Well, you should probably go home…” 

Aimi snorted. “I would.” A sad smile followed. “Only problem is, I don’t have one. A home, I mean.” 

“Well, you can always share mine,” he offered instinctively. It was almost a thoughtless comment, but one that made her give him a look as if she had seen a ghost. 

“Do you mean that?” 

Did he? Probably not. At least not at that time. Now, though, Aimi  _ was _ his home, and he was hers. As he sat by and watched her play with the other girls, he couldn’t help but feel that one day soon they would be far away from all this, in a nice house in the middle of nowhere.

One of the girls on her team struck the ball and sent it flying over the net, though the referee whistled and called it out. A conflict erupted, but the few people in the stands, mostly friends and relatives, looked relieved to get a break from a game they neither knew or cared about. Their coach Saburo went up to the referee, trying to smooth things over. 

Eiji put little energy into disliking anyone, but he deeply disliked that fat man old man. There was a spiritual grease that dripped from him at all times, and his slimy appearance with the slicked-back strands of hair on his head and the sweaty shirts truly brought it home. To make it worse, Aimi told him that rather bluntly that the creep loved to come in accidentally when the girls were changing and offer massages to them. Even as the game unfolded tonight, Eiji would see him staring at the girls as they bent over, shamelessly ogling the the stretched shorts. 

Just the thought of those dark eyes lingering on Aimi’s behind made Eiji feel murderous. That people like this guy could be in a position like this around school girls was an offense to society itself. To kill him in the most brutal manner would have been an honorable act. 

The matter with the referee got settled and the game went on, and the tide was switching to their side. He could see the glimmering beads of sweat flying off of Aimi’s body as she sprinted all over, jumping high up in the air to hit the ball in a fierce manner that left the other team stunned. They were so amazed by her performance that it left them dispirited, and after Aimi had helped her team catch up, they all grew in confidence and played well enough to end the game with a considerable lead. 

A few of the parents in the crowd got up to clap at the amazing deed once the game ended, as did Eiji.  _ She did it. She did it!! I’m so proud of her… _ Aimi hugged with the other girls and laughed, but waved over to him happily. _ She doesn’t have a reason to drink tonight _ , he thought innocently.  _ Today is a happy day _ . 

The girls went back to their lockers to change. Eiji waited outside by the door, scrolling through Twitter on his phone and liking pictures retweeted by his favorite mangakas as the players left. Many of them knew him from school, but especially now that he was with Aimi, and greeted him with a solemn nod before they went on their way. 

When they were all gone, Aimi opened the door and popped her head out. “Hey, don’t stand there, come in!” She left the door ajar and Eiji followed her inside.

“Well…” she said impatiently. “What did you think?”

“It was an amazing performance.” 

“Hell yes. I won that shit,” she said, beyond satisfied with herself, the happiness practically oozing off of her. “I did it.” 

“You did. Maybe we should celebrate.” 

Her eyebrow rose. “Celebrate? And how do we do that?” 

“I don’t know… Go somewhere nice, maybe.” 

“I’d like that.” 

Her fingers worked the laces of the sneakers, and Eiji stared for a moment at the chipped black paint of her nails and the bitten ends. “So.” She glanced up to smile through the dark hair that draped over her face. “Where are you taking me?” 

The door creaked open and heavy footfalls echoed through the windowless room. “There’s my superstar,” said Saburo. He came and put his arm around her shoulder and brought her close to his chest sweaty. It was a boyish gesture that could’ve been taken as cute and funny, but the clear discomfort on her face took away any possibility of that. “You destroyed them.  _ You crucified them _ ,” he said in a bad English accent, and felt happy he had somehow remembered that from somewhere. 

Aimi kept her eyes and voice low. “Thanks…” 

“How about I take you out for a drink, huh? You’ve earned it.” 

Though he stood right next to them, Eiji was being completely ignored. The question made his blood boil, as did the sight of this human toad having his arm around his sweetheart. And even then, the idea that a coach would suggest to a school girl to go out for a drink with him went beyond the pale. 

“Sorry, I can’t. I have plans.” 

“Oh? What plans?” 

Aimi jerked her head in Eiji’s direction. “He’s taking me somewhere.” 

Saburo’s eyes fell on him as if he were spotting Eiji for the first time. “Is that so?” He smirked and bobbed his jowled head. “So you’re the boyfriend, then?” A pause came but neither Aimi nor Eiji said a word. “Isn’t that something? I suppose even girls like her can find people willing to date them.” 

Girls like what? What was he trying to say? “She’s the best girl.” Eiji wanted to say that as a gotcha, but it came out half-hearted and edged with a prepubescent crack in his voice.

Saburo laughed darkly and glanced at Aimi. “Is this true? What did you tell this poor kid, huh? Can’t you see how dense he is?” 

She sniffed weakly. “Leave him alone…”

“I think you should be fucking saying that to yourself,” he barked harshly. “Does he even know?” 

_ Do I know what? _ thought Eiji, suddenly paralyzed in the space of pure possibility. Did he mean about the smoking and drinking? Of course he knew about that… 

Aimi closed her eyes and a pained look came over her. “Sabu, please…” 

Saburo laughed a little more and licked his fat lips. “Right. Right.” He went on holding her against his chest, though by now his palm had come down to the small of her back, the fingertips resting just over the waistband of the shorts.

“Well, either way, you played great tonight.” The old hand suddenly smacked her ass. Aimi yelped and buried her head in his chest in shame. “Was that too hard? Sorry. My lil’ bro always said I can’t control my strength.” His fingers came down and kneaded her tortured cheeks, passing the young flesh between them with what looked like years of experience.

Eiji watched in total horror, unsure of what to say or do.  _ He’s… He’s touching her ass… _ Why was Aimi not doing anything? And how could a coach do this? He must have been thirty years older than her. This wasn’t acceptable!  **STOP!** He wished he could scream.  **STOP TOUCHING HER!!** Instead, he only watched helplessly as the old man played with his girlfriend’s shapely and toned volleyball butt, caressing it like a peach on display at the market. 

Aimi began to shake and cooed softly against him, one leg lifting up in a feminine fashion behind. Saburo winked at Eiji confidently and lowered the other hand down to grip the second cheek. “I can tell your ass has missed me.” His shameless gaze stayed with Eiji, challenging him. “Did you know the most important part of any volleyball player is the ass?” He tittered by himself as his calloused and hairy fingers played with her worked-out glutes. “It’s true. It’s why Aimi over here is such a great player - it’s all in her ass.” 

He gave it another bitter smack and stepped away, leaving Aimi shaken and motionless. It took a few seconds for her to snap out of it and lower her arms from the guarded position that she took, though she continued to look down and avoid eye contact with Eiji. 

_ Aimi… _ He stared at her, unsure of what to do. His instincts said to protect her, but how could she allow this pig to touch her in that way?  _ And with me standing right beside them _ . Not to mention the part where she begged Saburo not to tell him.  _ Tell me what? _

The fat man headed out but grabbed Eiji by the wrist and dragged him along. “Come with me, kid.” 

Once they were out, Saburo let go. He took out a cigarette and lit it, then stared at a nearby vending machine thoughtfully. “What’s the last grade you got in math?” 

Eiji swallowed hard and shifted the balance of his feet. He couldn’t even stand properly anymore. Just what was going on? “W-What?” The simple reply came out as a painful stammer. 

“Math. Your last score. What was it?” 

“Uhm… A 9, I think.” 

“A 9. Not bad. You know, I was a lot like you when I was little. Scared and sheltered, but a good student and above all, a good kid. Unloved and miserable, but still. And just like you I met a broken girl that I thought would make all my dreams come true. She came over to my house every day, we watched movies, we cuddled, we fucked, and life seemed perfect. My grades were falling apart, but what did that matter? I did everything for her. I even sold this gold watch my father had inherited from my grandfather because her dirtbag of a father couldn’t make rent and they were about to be evicted.”

Saburo took a long drag on the smoke and the cigarette flared in the cool neon lights of the school hallway. “Point being, you do a lot of stupid shit when you’re in love.  _ Especially _ when it’s the first time. I did everything for that girl, and you know what it got me? A failed school year and a job working as a fucking garbage man. All while she whored around, always telling me it wasn’t true, always apologizing and telling me it would change. People don’t change, kid. And as harsh as it may sound, some people aren’t real people. They’re kinda just there. To be fucked and used and let go of once they’re done - and they will be. Because there’s nothing under the skin. Just like disposable plates, you got disposable people. You use them more than once and they start to break and leave you fucked. Disposable people. Do you feel me?

“Aimi’s got a nice body and a great ass. Have your fun. But watch your grades and keep your eyes out for a good girl to start a family with. Don’t be like me, kid. Because one day” - he put out the half-smoked cigarette against the cartoon bear of the vending machine - “you’ll wake up a disposable person yourself.” 

Saburo took off without another word, his heavy feet thundering down the hallway as he waddled into the distance. Disposable people? What the hell was that? And why was Aimi so bad? Eiji suddenly realized he hadn’t asked about what she didn’t want him to know, and it was a little too late to run after the old man. His hairs were standing on their ends, and he struggled to breathe normally. 

_ I’m scared _ , he realized dispassionately. 

The door opened behind him and Aimi stepped out, dressed to go, the checkered-coat buttoned up to her chin. “Is he gone?” 

“Yeah.” His heart thrummed hard in his chest. “He’s gone.” 

Visible relief washed over her. A breath that looked like it had been held forever came out of her. “Thank god.” 

“Aimi…” He wondered how to phrase it. “Do you want to tell me something?” 

Her eyes held him and she smiled broadly, almost comically forced. “Not really? He’s a creep. What more is there to say?” 

What could he possibly reply to that? “All right.” 

She stepped forward and took him by the arm arm. “Come on, let’s go have some bubble tea and hamburgers. Let’s celebrate!” 


	2. Spilled Ink

It was an incredible thing, how only a few words and images could taint everything. Like people that spent their whole lives guided by a few lines from sacred texts that they knew by heart, so Eiji constantly thought back to Aimi getting felt up by Saburo and begging for his silence. Had she even begged? The scene looped in Eiji’s mental theatre nonstop, but at times it felt like it shifted depending on mood, with Aimi going pained and desperate if he felt sad and hopeless, to her seeming rough and dismissive in the moments he wanted to think it was all nothing and that she just didn’t want to give Saburo the pleasure of messing around. 

One thing that stood out was just how sweet she acted towards him since it happened. Aimi never acted out with him, but now she played up her cuteness and affection to such a degree that it became entirely disarming. She wanted to hold his hand as they walked at all times, leaned into him when they waited for the bus or went up the elevator, and slept against his shoulder as they commuted. And most importantly, she stopped drinking and smoking, at least when Eiji was present. 

The crashing waves sprayed up their faces as they walked along the waterfront at the edge of town, dark clouds gathering past the shores. Aimi was zipped all the way up and had the hood drawn tightly over her head so that only her nose and eyes showed through the opening. “They say tomorrow it’s going to start getting warm again.”

Eiji shivered. White froth dripped off the jagged stones below. _ I should ask her about Saburo _ , he thought again, and wondered how to go about it. But what if she reacted badly? What if she got sad or angry… What if she just left him altogether for thinking him too nosy?

“Hey!” Eiji glanced over and felt her arms wrapping around his neck. She got up on her toes to reach up to him, bringing the tip of her nose against his. “We should go somewhere nice this week. A trip. How about it?” 

Eiji imagined all the different ways this could have gone. He thought of American music videos and how he could have grabbed her right now and lifted her up, pressing her against his chest as they made out against the cold metal of the railing. Instead, he only felt an icy, numbing chill going up his spine as a realization took shape:  _ Somebody has already done that with her, and probably much more _ . 

Her mouth opened in a gush of emotion and her breath smoked between them. Then she smiled, a smile that would have been too much even on a lottery winner, the kind of smile that let him know she was standing on thin ice and about to go under at the slightest touch, a smile that was really the lowest form of begging.  **Don’t bring up anything** , it begged.  **Don’t break the spell. Just let me enjoy this while I can** . 

They walked back together arm in arm, Eiji listening quietly to Aimi as she told him all the places they would go on their trip. Apparently she knew all the sights and attractions in the nearby towns. “I can’t wait to show you, it’s going to be so fun!” How did a high school girl know so much about areas in places more than two hours away? Who did she go there with, and why?

Just as they were about to leave the waterfront completely, a tattooed guy swaggered into view, wearing a sleeveless shirt and sunglasses despite the bad weather. “Oh, God…” Aimi whispered, and she buried her face in Eiji’s neck. What? Was this another person she knew? 

He looked like he was about to pass them by without a word when he stopped short and grinned. “Aimi?” He lifted the sunglasses and narrowed his eyes. “Is that you, Aimi-chan?” 

She reluctantly looked over. “H-Hello…” 

The thug seemed on edge even as he made casual conversation, his forearms bulging with thick veins that distorted his colorful tattoos. He reached and pulled her hood back unceremoniously. “I’ve got the eyes of a fucking eagle, man. An eagle. I’d tattoo an eagle if I still had room for it.” The tattoos even came up past his neck and ran down to his fingernails. 

Aimi smiled awkwardly and tried not to make eye contact. The thug finally acknowledged Eiji and shook his hand. “I’m  _ Jonu _ . You know, like John in America?” 

“I got it,” said Eiji politely. The thug seemed proud of his moniker. 

“So what are you guys doing? You want to hang out or something?” He took Aimi by the hand and got closer to her. “We haven’t seen each other in ages,” he whispered suggestively, twining her small and pale fingers around his dark tattooed ones. “What do you say?” 

“I can’t, sorry… We have to get home.” 

He took his hand away, all offended. “I see. You got a real boyfriend now, huh? You must be a real humanitarian.” He chuckled at Eiji. “Dating used trash like this.” 

Eiji could feel his heart fire up again. Aimi was pulling him away, whispering for them to go, but he just couldn’t let it go this time. What kind of man would?  _ I’m not spineless… I can’t be _ . “You’re the real trash. Just look at you,” he said. “You look like shit.”

“What did you say to me, you little shit?” Jonu shoved Aimi aside and went straight for him, lifting him up by the front of his jacket. The power in his arms was no joke - he probably could’ve hurled Eiji away with the ease with which kids threw stones. “You think it’s worth getting the shit kicked out of you for this slut?”

Aimi raised her hands to her face in shock. “Let him go! Please! Jonu, I’ll go with you, just let him go!” 

“You hear that? What loyalty.” 

Eiji could feel his heart break from her quick change in attitude but the adrenaline still rushed through his system. “You’re still trash, man.” 

Jonu grinned in total disbelief. “Dumb kid.” He slammed his fist into Eiji’s stomach hard enough that it made him reel and puke his guts out. He tottered unsteadily, reaching out for something to hold onto, until he folded and collapsed to the ground. The pain spiked through his whole body without any real source, the world spinning around with a bright light at the center. How could a single punch do this?... 

“And you,” Eiji could hear Jonu say. “You fucking bitch. How many times have you come begging to me for cash? And what, now you’re too good for me or something? Don’t let me catch you here again. I see either one of you in my territory and I’ll send you into the fucking depths.” 

By the time he regained enough composure to see straight, Jonu had walked off into the darkening horizon. Aimi crouched next to him, running her hands over his torso in a desperate attempt to get him to feel better, as if she were some sort of MMO healer. “Fuck! I’m so sorry about that.” There was a real panic in her voice, an ugly terror like that of a witch whose bewitching disguise failed, as if she thought this chance she would get to defend herself. 

Eiji wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing. He put a hand over the part of his belly where he had been hit and rose slowly, drawing in his breath sharply and yelping as the pain arched through him whenever he moved too fast. 

By the time he was up, Aimi was crying. “Fuck, I’m so sorry… I’m so bad for you. Oh my God. I’m such a fucking piece of shit. How could I let him do that to you? I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m going to…” By now she was speaking to herself deliriously, her gaping eyes wandering all over as if scanning for a nearby weapon. 

Eiji was just disappointed. Even when he stood for her she still… she still wanted to go with that guy.  _ That was where her instincts took her. She would be there with him right now if he wanted her there, _ he thought glumly. And yet her affection for him was written in the intensity of her tears and frustration, and that, too, was undeniable.  _ She was just trying to help. _ Unfortunately her ideas all lead in the wrong direction.

Eiji tried to smile and suppressed a groan of pain as he lifted his hand to her shoulder. “I’m okay. I feel better already. Let’s just forget about this.” 

As soon as the word forget connected with her brain, it worked as a kind of stabilizer and sedative. Forgetting. It was all she wanted to do.  _ But I can’t forget,  _ thought Eiji, knowing he would have to add this thug next to Saburo in a series of mysteries. She bobbed her head and wiped the tears and mucus with her sleeve. “I’m so gross.” She laughed darkly. “God.” 

It took everything in him to walk the rest of the way to the bus station without tearing up from the pain. It was so bad. Every pharmacy he saw that promised the potential of a painkiller seemed like the most beautiful thing in the world, but he wouldn’t get one until they went their separate ways.

“I promise, I’ll make this up to you” Aimi insisted. “No matter what. You’ll see… It will be worth it.” 

She gave him a kiss on the cheek as he turned to climb into the bus, and that, too, annoyed him. H _ ow many guys has she fucked? And all I get is a kiss on the cheek… _ It was humiliating. Aimi waved to him energetically as the bus took off, and he pressed his palm against the window in turn.  _ Why am I doing this?  _ It would have been so much easier to jump down to those cliffs.  _ That cunt should have thrown me. _

By nightfall, the painkillers took their effect and Eiji felt okay again. He was too embarrassed to tell his mother about what happened, and as they had dinner they talked about their show and how the character arcs had been going instead. 

Eiji even ignored his phone as it buzzed, thinking he was getting spammed by his friends. As a rule, Aimi called, but she almost never texted. So when he lifted it up to see that he had not only several messages from her but an image as well, he frowned. What was it this time? 

He opened the chat to read an apology that must have been at least a thousand words in which she said how she wished she could erase her past and how sorry she was that it kept coming up. [ _ No one should have made this many mistakes this early, but at least now I can be the best I can without any :). _ ] He could almost see that smile of hers for real, and it made him tremble with dread. 

“What are you reading so intently, hmm?” his mom asked, wrapping more noodles around her chopsticks. “Do your friends need you to help them in your game again?” 

“No… It’s Aimi.”

“Oh! How nice, tell her I said hello!” 

The image loaded and his hand nearly dropped the phone when it finished. It was a picture of her butt taken in the bathroom, completely naked, turned halfway to the camera. It curved away beautifully from the arch of her lower back, the shadowy dimples above it decorating it like some high work of art, each group of muscle and plane inked out by the dim bathroom lighting.

Eiji gulped emptily and tried to show no arousal despite getting fired it up immediately. [ _ I hope you like it… _ ] the caption said. He certainly did. In fact, he could barely talk or breathe from how much he liked it. 

“Give me a second,” he told his mom abruptly, then got up and went straight to his room. 

He got in bed and held the phone in front of him, zooming in and caressing the Aimi on screen as if it were the real thing. He wanted to run his fingers down her warm skin and feel the curve of her ass filling out his palm.  _ Just like others have _ , his mind shot back immediately. 

His eyes closed and tried to bring the sight to life, but instead of him touching Aimi it was the thug they bumped into today. Jonu. The tattooed hands handling her caressly as she cooed, as helpless as a slave. As he touched himself Eiji could actually feel the pained area of his stomach spreading out, bringing back the realness of it all. That he jerked off to Aimi getting used by the guy that humiliated him. That the same guy must have had his way with his girlfriend countless times. That the hand that knocked him out must have explored every inch of Aimi’s tight and sporty body. After all, wasn’t she willing to give herself to him again today? 

As the image of her brutalized ass crystallized in his head, he came incredibly hard, moaning weakly as the hot jizz overflowed and came down his fingers and pooled over his stomach.

_ Fuck, _ he finally thought, quickly bringing his pants back up and staring at the ceiling. All of a sudden he felt incredibly depressed and disgusted with himself. With what he came to. He wasn’t even able to help it… It just took hold of him and wouldn’t let go. 

As for Aimi… he wasn’t even sure what to say anymore. The picture excited him when he first saw it but now it felt dirty and wrong. Their relationship had never been like this, yet now she was doing stuff to try and compensate for all the misery. Offering her body must have seemed like the only real tangible thing she had to trade, and so that’s what she put up to try and earn his forgiveness. 

_ That’s just how a slut thinks _ , he thought, and the first real tears of sadness formed in his eyes. It would’ve been easier if she didn’t love him, but that’s precisely what made it all so difficult. She did love him. He did love her. But Saburo was right As was Jonu. She was used goods. Beyond helping...

_ No! I just need to talk to her, _ he told himself a second later, trying to stay hopeful, grasping at anything that he could.  _ Burying the past is never going to help her get over it _ . It needed to be unburied, exhumed, and set alight.  _ Then we can move on... _


	3. Night Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aimi takes Eiji on a night out.

The night lights of the shopping district left Eiji as confused as a wild animal. He just wasn’t used to the big city life, not to mention the night life. The bright neon, the flashing signs, the fast crowds, the food vendors, the drunks, the entertainers… 

Aimi held his hand firmly as they walked past a huge Pikachu selling cheap beer. “Isn’t it nice?”

“It’s… interesting.” 

She was certainly happier than he had seen her in ages. The city at night was her element, and she wanted a bite out of every type of street food available, especially the foreign dishes neither of them could recognize at first glance.

They stood and ate Thai food together at one of the stands, Aimi sipping from her coke as Eiji reluctantly chewed what must have been duck. “You are bad at this,” she said with an amused shake of her head. It was all natural, and Eiji missed seeing her like this. “I could eat all night and all day. And I’d eat everything. I want to try every sort of food before I die.” 

“Well, you have plenty of time.” 

There was no disagreement from her, and she chewed happily as a bunch of girls in frilly skirts and brightly-dyed hair passed by handing out flyers. It was for nearby club that looked to have aquariums and fancy drinks. “Oh my god… Do you want to go here?” 

“Won’t you be tempted to drink?” 

Aimi shook her head. “Not at all. I’m with you, so I’m on my best behavior.” 

_ And what happens when I’m not around? _ Eiji wanted to ask, but pushed it back as always. 

Aimi had dressed up for their outing and guys were staring at her as they went by. Eiji wasn’t sure if she didn’t notice them or just pretended not to, but his heart beat in his chest the entire night thinking they might come over and cause trouble. She wore a pair of white shorts that were loose around the legs but were tight enough around her cheeks to outline their hard, round shape. 

The bar in question was impressive, there was no doubt about it. Most of the low mood-lighting came from aquariums that were fit elegantly around the interior, including one that stretched the full length of the bar, and all the waitresses wore some kind of uniform jacked to a battery that kept their collars and the hems of their skirts glowing. Despite it all, the place was surprisingly empty, and there were only two other guys at the bar that looked to be about their age.

Just seeing two guys around was enough to make Eiji nervous. Who was to say who knew Aimi and what they might do? The pain that Jonu had inflicted on him was gone, but he could still remember how Aimi suggested going with the thug to put an end to the conflict.  _ So what, if a crew of these school boys gang up on me, is she going to fuck them all? _ he wondered with maddening fury. 

He kept flip-flopping from thinking she was the best thing that ever happened to him and a good soul that had a troubled past and needed to be helped along, to thinking she was worst kind of whore that only put on a good face when she was around him and did god knows what else when they were apart. Really, the whole thing started getting to him and making him feel miserable, since he felt like this other part of him was a horrible secret that he was keeping from her. Despite her many flaws, it felt like he couldn’t have any, or reveal any, since she made him out to be perfect. 

In the end, he just didn’t trust her. Not only with her conduct, but even with her feelings towards him.  _ Maybe she’s just expecting me to be a dumb sap that agrees to everything _ . 

“Honey,” said Aimi. “Is something wrong?” 

Eiji forced a smile. “Not at all. What makes you say that?” 

Her hand reached out and went into his hair, gently caressing it. “You’re so wonderful and I love you so much. I’m so grateful that you… that you stick with me through everything.” 

And it was just that easy to make his heart melt all over again. How? How could she be bad for him when she felt so right? When they were like soulmates? When the smallest touch from her could make his heart burst and take away any pain and doubt? 

“I always will. Do you feel the same?” 

Aimi giggled in disbelief and leaned into her elbows on the bartop. “Are you kidding? I would be with you if I found out you were  _ Hitler _ . I don’t care.  **I love you** . That’s all.” 

It was a comforting thought. To be loved no matter what…  _ I owe her that, too _ . Of course, it was a lot easier for her to say this given his total innocence in most matters. Apart from his misgivings about their relationship, there was nothing he hadn’t told her, and no secrets to uncovered.  _ I am just so boring _ . 

Since it was a new place, the bartender insisted the first two drinks were to be on the house. They were sweet and colorful, only a little alcoholic, and as Eiji drank it through the straw and looked at the exotic fish in the aquarium, he wondered if any of them were used to give them the bright colors.  _ What a stupid though _ t, he realized.

“It must be so easy to be a fish,” said Aimi dreamily, gazing inside the tank. She tapped her finger against the glass at her knees and got the attention of some orange beauty streaked with white. “You don’t think, you don’t worry, you just live.” 

To a man that had always been introspective, that sounded incredibly depressing. “Or you get stuck in an aquarium. Or fished out and eaten.” 

She smiled and put a hand on his leg, her eyes narrowing suggestively. “I’d want you to fish me out.” 

It was a provocative move, one that no one had ever done to him, and he could feel his dick twitching in his pants in response. He felt nothing from the drink, but was it possible that Aimi was a little tipsy? Or was she just having some fun? She rarely touched him like this...

Just a few moments past, an elderly, skinny-looking man had sat down between them and the younger guys. He ordered himself a drink and rubbed thoughtfully at his forehead, studying all the bottles on display behind the bartender. As his eyes wandered to the right, they met the couple and went wide. “Aimi? Aimi, is that you?!” 

_ Not again _ , thought Eiji, his mind veering backwards just as fast as before.  _ This guy? Are you serious? _ Finally, they were having a good moment. Finally, they were enjoying themselves. And again her fucking past was here to ruin it all. Her hand went away, too, and so did whatever was happening.

But unlike the other times, Aimi perked up with joy. “Tanaka-san! I didn’t even see you!” She jumped off the stool and ran over to hug him, then quickly grabbed Eiji and brought him over for introductions. “My boyfriend,” she said proudly. 

The feeble old man shook his hand with both of his. “What a strong young man you are! To think that I would bump into you here, Aimi. It must have been months.” 

“Yeah…” Only now did a reluctant expression hit her face. “It has.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped hanging out with those guys. Now you look nice and sober and you’ve got a handsome boyfriend to boot! Good for you.” 

Eiji wondered who those guys were supposed to be, especially since she avoided looking at him as they were mentioned. Indeed, he had been wondering how exactly Aimi knew the nightlife in other cities so well when he could barely make his way home at night in the same streets he walked during the day.  _ Just who are you? _ he wondered, trying to find her avoidant gaze. No doubt, this old man seemed to know. Maybe there was something he could share. 

“Why don’t we all get a table?” suggested Tanaka. “It’s much better than to sit up here like some storks.” 

As he grabbed his drink and got down, Aimi whispered: “Don’t worry about Tanaka-san, he’s a really good guy. He saved my ass more than a couple of times. Like the grandpa I never had.” 

That was nice. But Eiji tried picturing bumping into his grandfather at a random bar and drinking together - it wouldn’t happen.

They sat down at the booth in the corner, Eiji and Aimi on one side with the old man on the other. The waitress came over and took their order, which Tanaka made before asking the couple what they might want.

Aimi leaned in furtively, clearly recognizing the names of the drinks that were alien to him. “Tanaka-san, I really shouldn’t have heavy stuff like that.” 

“Oh, nonsense! We should celebrate. Come on, tell me about your lives, you two. Regale an old man with something to think about other than death.” 

Aimi was the one that did the talking, though she spoke almost entirely about Eiji, repeating the same information that he had told her over time. Really, it was an impressive, almost encyclopedic knowledge of things even he had forgotten, like the name of a great-grandfather he had seen on a photo one time, told her about in the morning, and forgot existed until the present.

The drinks came. 

All three tinkled their glasses and started to drink. The taste was so strong and repellent to Eiji that he stopped at once and spat it out, coughing his guts out. Tanaka poured it down his gullet with a satisfying sigh at the end, and Aimi sipped half of hers, calmly, as if she were drinking soda, smiling at him naughtily, like some big brother laughing at a little brother. “You’re not used to it yet.” 

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be…”  _ And why are you? _

Aimi savored the last half of the glass and kept her eyes closed near the end. “So good.” 

“Don’t take it too far,” Eiji warned.

A grim look came over her. “Don’t worry. It takes a lot to get me drunk.  _ A lot _ . Do you mind if I finish yours?”

Eiji thought she was kidding, until he pushed it an inch and watched her guzzle it down like a man in the desert. “ _ Dee-lish _ .” 

The next round he got a soda, though Aimi insisted she was doing just fine holding her alcohol. Knowing absolutely nothing about it, Eiji couldn’t say one way or the other, though he kept making suggestive comments that went ignored. And though both Aimi and the old man tried to pull him into the conversation and make it a threeway one, the truth was that he knew none of the people they gossiped about. How was he supposed to know old Mitsuhide from the flower shop? What did that even mean?

After their fourth round, Aimi excused herself and got up to go to the bathroom. Eiji watched her go, and noticed the old man’s eyes lingering after her as well, focusing on the tight butt as the muscles worked under the shorts. “Don’t you worry,” said Tanaka. “I’m forty years too old for that.” 

“I wasn’t worried.” 

Tanaka didn’t even seem to hear him as he slurped some more from his glass. “You should thank me. I’m warming her up for you. A few more drinks and you can take her home, no questions asked.” 

What the fuck was he saying? He wanted to reach out and punch Tanaka in the face over the implication, but Aimi was already walking back to the table. So this was the quality of her friends? Would-be rapists?

“Sorry, boys,” said Aimi as she got back in the booth. “I needed to freshen up a little.” Though she pretended to be energetic, her movements seemed sluggish, and her voice slurred the words as they came out, one at a time.

“We should go soon,” said Eiji. “It’s getting late.” 

Aimi gave him a confused look, but nodded. “Sure thing, sweetie. Whenever you want.” 

Just then, he could hear his phone buzzing in her purse. Aimi took it out and made a face, reading the name of his mother. 

Eiji sighed and answered. “Mom? Hello?” What she said was practically inaudible. Eiji excused himself and went outside. “Mom, can you hear me now?” 

“Eiji, where the hell are you? Have you seen the time?” 

He clicked his tongue. “I’m coming soon, Mom.” 

“How soon is soon?... Are you drunk?” 

“Do I sound drunk?” 

The inane conversation went on for another ten minutes until he agreed that he would be back in two hours at most. Eiji headed back into the club, to find that Aimi had switched places and was in the same booth as the old man, who kept showing her pictures on the phone that made her laugh hysterically, with tears in her eyes. 

The old man flashed the screen at Eiji, but the boomer meme was just tasteless and unfunny, something about a pig talking to a politician. “That’s nice. I think we should go. My mom called.” 

“Just one more round and then we all go,” Tanaka said. 

Aimi gave him a pleading look and reached towards him with trembling fingers, though they couldn’t reach him. “Just ten more minutes, honey? Please?” 

Eiji bit his tongue and sighed quietly. “All right.” 

By the time the drinks came, Aimi already looked pretty out of it. Her lids kept closing by themselves in a way that made Eiji nervous, and her body leaned against the seat like dead weight. 

Tanaka put an arm around her. “What’s wrong? Are you dozing off on us?”

Aimi only half-smiled. Fuck, she was too tired to even smile? How drunk was she? “Only a little.” 

The waitress showed up with the drinks just then, and Tanaka brought one up to Aimi’s lips as soon as they hit the table. “Here you go. This should energize you.” 

Eiji knew he should have intervened, but it all just happened so fast. Before he even processed what was going down, the old man had tilted the glass in her mouth the whole way. Aimi was so gone mentally that a little bit of it at the end just drooled out of her mouth. 

Then Eiji noticed him grab the other drink and his heart stopped.“What are you doing?” he said, but his voice came out as a desperate whimper.

Tanaka brought the second drink to her mouth and poured it in. “Her you go, sweetheart. You just have a little left in the glass. Don’t let it go to waste.” And just like that, in a few seconds, everything in the second glass went into her, too. “How’s that, good?” 

Aimi’s eyes didn’t open, but her mouth moved as if she were talking from a dream. “Good…” 

“That’s my girl.” Tanaka brought his face close to hers, dramatically close, like a would-be kiss in old movies. “I’m so proud of you of you, Aimi-chan. Even after all this time you can still hold your liquor.” 

There was no response from her. 

“Such a cute little girl you are,” said Tanaka, and rubbed his nose against hers. A moment later he brought his lips up to kiss the tip of her nose. “So beautiful… You’ve always been so beautiful…” His eyes went down to the long and muscular legs that stretched right next to him, ghostly pale in the low light of the club, the shorts pulled up enough to reveal the thick and rounded thighs, silken smooth and all so warm.

“You look so good, all the time, no matter what…” With every word he seemed to be losing control of himself. He eyed her glossy lips and sleeping beauty face, then came up and kissed her for real, his cracked lips pushing against hers violently.

At first Aimi showed no reaction at all, as if she were nothing more than clay in his hands. But as he kept forcing the kiss on her and reached down to hold her waist, she responded in turn, lifting her arm and wrapping it around his neck instinctively. 

Eiji doubted she knew what she was doing. These were just the natural responses of her body. Of the mouth that had made out with god knows how many others. Somehow, he was less mad than he suspected he would be. All the times he had imagined it happening left him somewhat numbed, and tonight was yet another clear example of her inability to judge a situation. 

_ I am done with her _ , he thought, feeling confident that this was the last straw. It didn’t even matter to him that Tanaka made out with her. That he was touching her tummy. Stroking her legs. Caressing her face.  _ She’s not my girlfriend _ . 

And yet, his knees shook fiercely, and tears ran from his eyes. 

The old man just made out with her without any sort of qualms about what he was doing, his gnarled hand exploring every inch of tomboy body, now addicted to the feel of her inner thighs and the heat that came from what was between them. He brushed back her short brown hair and opened her eyes, watching them stare lifelessly back at him. He sucked her tongue into his crooked-tooth mouth, bringing his fingers to her ass, and moved her over into his lap until her legs were resting over his, her ass lifted to stand sideways and grant ease of access. 

Tanaka took a deep breath and wiped at his forehead as if this had been a grand exertion of physical prowess, then reached for the glass that he found empty. His eyes locked with Eiji and he grinned. “Sorry, kid. You know that saying, first come, first served? No hard feelings.” 

Eiji’s eyes went to the round ass of his girlfriend that was now being touched by yet another man. He had never touched her ass. And now, just like with Saburo, he watched this old creep reach down and feel it up at leisure, as if were his natural right or something.  _ She’s not my girlfriend,  _ he went on saying to himself _ . I don’t feel sad… I don’t feel sad at all _ . 

But even as he thought that, his vision blurred from the tears and sobs he could no longer suppress broke out.  _ She said she loves me, so why does she do this to me?! Why?! What a sick joke! What a sick fucking joke! I’m never going to be her first anything. She doesn’t even try anything with me. It’s all so stupid. So stupid!  _

“Kid,” said Tanaka. 

Eiji wiped away the tears and looked up, trying to get ahold of himself. “What?” 

“Kid, I…” He seemed to be torn between feeling guilty and being too drunk to act morally. His palm was still on her bubble butt, enjoying itself way too much to stop feeling that those sweet schoolgirl buns. “What were you expecting from her, really? Don’t you know she’s just a drunk? I mean you think this is bad… Can you imagine what she’s done with all those guys she hung out with?” 

“What guys!?” screamed Eiji. “Tell me.” He grabbed one of the empty glasses and pressed it ready in his hand. “Tell me or I’ll throw this right against your fucking HEAD!” 

He hoped the old man would get mad, but instead he sniggered with dark amusement. “This is what happens to sad men that don’t drink. You should learn to drink. I’m sure Aimi here can teach you a thing or two.” He slapped her ass hard enough that Eiji jumped, as if she were some pack animal. “Ain’t that right, Aimi-chan?” 

“Tell me,” Eiji repeated, but he was practically begging.

“Look.” Again the old man tapped her ass, delighted with his achievement of getting to feel it up like this. “Aimi here is a good girl. But she’s not girlfriend material. Or any sort of material. Where do you see her in a few years from now? Either dead, or homeless, or working some deadend job while feeling sorry for herself and making some poor guy miserable. That’s all there is.” 

The old man raised his finger to stop Eiji from interrupting. “When I met her she was always hanging out with these guys. You know, thugs. Not like Yakuza or anything, but just your usual high school pieces of shit. I’d always see her in one guy’s lap or another, and it was clear she wasn’t anyone’s girlfriend. She was just the girl they dragged along because everyone knew they could have fun with her without any problems. The one that would drop down and suck their dicks at command. You know the type, the no self-esteem, ready-to-please young slut.

“Anyway, one time those guys tried to beat my ass and Aimi stood up for me. After that, whenever I’d catch her around and she needed help, I’d do it. One time I let her sleep over, another time I paid for her bus fare, and so on. Each and every time she told me she wouldn’t be back with those guys, and then I’d see her at it again a few days later, drinking booze in some guy’s lap and getting talked to like a dog.” 

“And?” 

Tanaka shrugged. “And what? That’s the story. I don’t have some happy ending for you. I lost a lot of money trying to give this bitch a second chance, and another, and another. I should’ve told her to suck me off, too. I guess I still can.” 

Eiji clenched his fists in rage. He wanted to be sucked off, was that it? “When did you stop seeing her?” 

“Hell if I know. A few months ago. She was fucked up and I helped her get on the train, and that was that. I genuinely thought she was fucking dead until tonight.” 

A few months ago, that was when…  _ That was when we met _ , he thought.  _ She stopped because of me? _ Aimi had always said so but he thought that just covered her smoking and drinking less.  _ She stopped coming back to those guys, because she wanted to be with me… _ The realization burned through him and made him ashamed. She was trying. In her way, her limited way, she was trying to pull out of this mess… 

_ And I’ve done nothing to help _ . 

As he stared at the old man caressing her ass and holding her like some stuffed doll, a thing inside of Eiji, a thing deep inside, like the glass of an EMERGENCY ONLY hammer you see on buses.  _ What kind of man am I to let this happen? She was right in front of me. I was right here. How did I let him do this? What’s wrong with me? _

“Get away from her,” he ordered Tanaka.

“Kid, calm down.” He yanked her head up and stared at the open-mouth, so similar to that of the fish in the aquarium. “Let’s just have some fun with her and call this a lesson learned, eh?” 

Eiji said nothing. He got up slowly and went over, though the old man wasn’t showing any sign of hostility. “Calm down now. You wanted me to stop, okay, I’ll stop. I’ll go.” He started moving away from her. “Goddamn it, I’ll go, okay? I’m going…”

He let him get up from the booth and smile apologetically. Then Eiji grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him hard against the table. He put his forearm against his neck and pushed, using his other hand to beat down into his face as if he were stabbing him, though there was no knife. He could hear parts of him breaking. “You come near her again, and I am going to break the little that’s left of you.” 

It all happened in a matter of seconds, and no one noticed anything. The old man went dead quiet. He was only bleeding from his nose, thankfully. Eiji pushed his limp body in the seat that he had risen from, then grabbed Aimi and lifted her up. “Come on, time to go.” 

As he walked out a waitress passed them by, and he gave her a smile, “My friends, they had too much to drink…” 

He got out of there as fast as he could, pulling her along like a corpse, and got into the first cab he saw. “Train station,” he said breathlessly. “Now.” 

The driver glanced at him and Aimi in the rearview mirror. “I hope that’s your girlfriend or sister…” 

Eiji looked down at her passed out face and adjusted her in his lap so she was more comfortable. “My girlfriend,” he said firmly.  _ The one and only _ . 

Was that old imbecile dead? He sure hoped not. And in the end, nobody had seen him do anything, and there were no cameras in there to speak of. Not to mention, there was a really good reason to do what he did. 

_ And anyway, I just don’t care anymore _ . 

Aimi shifted a little in his arms and said weakly, “Are we going home?” 

“Yes.” He rubbed her back and felt her shiver. “We’re going home.” 

“I didn’t say bye to Tanaka-san…” 

“Don’t worry.” Eiji smiled and kissed her forehead. “I said goodbye for you.” 

She was soon out again, but not before her fingers sought his and twined with them in the dark. 


	4. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eiji sneaks in to watch Aimi training with her team under Saburo.

Eiji said nothing to Aimi of what happened that night at the club, nor had there been any police calling his home.  _ The old man’s probably fine _ , he told himself. The real problem was what to do with all this rage he’d been feeling ever since. He was the sort of person that bottled up everything his entire life; but now that dam broke completely, the boiling waters were cascading in a ceaseless torrent. 

Strangely, Aimi hadn’t noticed anything, thought admittedly were talking a little less over the last few days. Since they (Aimi’s team) had qualified for their regional tournament, that meant after-school workouts and training with all the girls, led by Saburo, no doubt, since they hadn’t taken any measures to get themselves another coach and likely wouldn’t, since according to Aimi the fat bastard knew what he was doing when it came to volleyball and coaching - it just happened that he was a shit person besides.

Eiji still thought about the way his hands groped at his girlfriend’s ass that night in the locker room, and the words of the fat asshole kept coming back to haunt him.  _ Disposable people _ , he said they were called, referring to Aimi. People to be used once and thrown away. Ironic, since if he left right now, he still wouldn’t have used Aimi a single time.  _ That’s only for others to do, I suppose _ .

On Friday the girls were even granted a leave from the final classes so they could start practicing early to prepare for the match on Tuesday. Aimi said she would probably be staying there until the evening, and possibly going out with the girls (did that imply Saburo as well?) to get a few drinks (were they going to be non-alcoholic?). 

Basically the whole thing put a knot in his stomach, and though Eiji was no stalker, he couldn’t help himself from wanting to show up unexpectedly and see just what went on in his absence. He needed to see what was actually going on over there and how Saburo was behaving around Aimi. When final class ended he grabbed his back and furtively made his way into the sports hall. The sky already darkened and the lights were only turned on for the court itself, so he snuck in through the entry at the top and chose a seat in the back of the spectator rows where no one could see him.

Down below, he could see the girls split off into two different teams that played against one another, with Saburo waddling along the sidelines giving pointers. Aimi was playing well and looked very happy, though she appeared to be very worked up. The strands of her short dark hair were clumped together from the perspiration that kept dampening her forehead, dangling over her face, and her legs had a slight sheen of sweat that reflected light as she ran across the floor. Out of all the girls there she was definitely the hottest, and not just because she happened to be his girlfriend. Every so often she reached back and pulled at the tight shorts that kept coming between her buns and rose up to reveal the lower part of her ass. And yet the fabric was flimsy enough that Eiji could spot the clear pantylines even from where he sat, especially when she leaned over suggestively and pitched her ass up behind her suggestively. 

Eiji shifted uncomfortably, a little turned on, but mostly angry that Saburo was getting a firsthand look at all that, and that other guys watching the games did as well. The shorts of this uniform were small on all the players, but they were especially obscene on a girl with an ass as round and big as Aimi’s that needed far more fabric to be covered up in full. 

The ball went back and forth a couple of times, picking up in speed, until one of the girls on the other side did her best to hurl it past Aimi’s defenses. For a brief second it seemed to be out of her reach. But then Eiji heard Aimi’s cry as she jumped as high up as she could and sent it back flying to the other side, smashing past their defenses. 

Despite the amazing performance, the other side seemed bored and annoyed, and so did Aimi’s own teammates from her side of the net. Only Saburo clapped and whistled at the display, then came forward and patted her ass proudly, and there was something uncomfortably fatherly and familiar about the way he did it. Aimi showed no reaction, neither did any other girl, as if this were completely normal.  _ So this is what happens at training? _

He was angry, though this was to be expected on some level. To be fair, Aimi had told him that Saburo was a pervert, but she never mentioned anything about this specifically, never implied that she was groping meat for his fat hands on a daily basis.

Eiji kept to the shadows and went on watching, dying to see if any more of that would happen.  _ She must think I’m such a retard _ , he thought glumly.  _ That I will never figure any of this out and will instead go on with it _ . 

And, of course, it did happen more. 

Every time Aimi outperformed some other player, that fat sleaze would come over and rub her round butt like some good luck charm. Close to an hour later she was so overworked and dripping with so much sweat that it literally pooled at her feet and left a glittering trail behind her steps. Saburo pulled her out for a short break and gave her a water bottle, then Aimi stood next to him, drinking and watching others play. He said something then teasingly slapped her on the back of the head. Aimi hit him in the arm in return, then leaned against it as she drank her water. 

Leaning against him, her face touching his bare skin. 

His hairy arm supported her from behind, his fingers resting just over her hips. “Come on, girls!” he yelled loudly. “We got a big match coming up. Put some muscle into it, damn it!” As much as they tried, though, none of them could compete with Aimi’s sheer ferocity or the natural athleticism of her super tight and strong body. Strange, to think she was surviving on just smokes and beer a few months ago.  _ She wouldn’t even be here without me _ , he thought unhappily.  _ And this is how she repays me _ .

She lifted her head to speak to Saburo, turning it until he was gripping her with both arms and her face nuzzled against his chest, eyes smiling up at him. Both of his hands came down over her ass for a brief period, and this time Eiji could see a few teammates glaring over at the two of them.  _ They’re acting like they’re a couple! _ Aimi stamped her feet, then punched him in the chest and sprinted out of the place. She came back only a few seconds later, phone in hand, texting something. 

Eiji’s phone buzzed.

Her message read: <I love you.> 

He stared at the screen for some time, wondering if he should text back or not. Aimi moved back to stand next to Saburo, who moved her to the front of him and wrapped his huge arms around her slender waist. 

<How’s training?> 

<Not bad! How are you? I miss you…> 

Eiji glanced at her where she stood, only a hundred meters away from him or so, her ass no doubt touching the old man’s crotch as he held her, her tight ass grinding against his wrinkled dick.  _ She misses me, huh? _ <I miss you too. When are you coming home?>

<Later, I think… The coach isn’t letting us go until we drop dead.> 

_ Is that fucking so? _ Eiji ran his tongue along his teeth and exhaled with frustration as he watched her. <That sucks. I hope he isn’t causing you any trouble. I’m worried.> 

<Oh, no, no, no! Everything is okay! Don’t worry about me!! Anyway, I have to go, I LOVE YOU. I’ll tell you as soon as I’m out.> 

She gave her phone to Saburo and went back on the court, laughing as the ball came her way. Eiji could see the asshole holding her phone and wondered if he should text back.  _ Well, why not? _ <I love you too, Aimi… I can’t wait for you to be out. I’m sorry you have to deal with that retarded piece of shit of a coach. Though I’ve been hearing his days here are numbered, thankfully.> 

Saburo felt the phone buzz and lifted it up, glancing at the message. It turned into a long look, then he pocketed it.  _ You fucking moron _ , thought Eiji, grinning with some satisfaction.  _ Let him simmer on that for a while _ . 

Aimi went back into the game with full force, going even harder against the other team and stealing every shot that came to her side. Sweat was flying off her body just ten minutes later, while the moves she made to toss the ball back at them were getting less graceful (if that was even possible) and more extreme. One time she just threw herself face down to the floor so she could hit the ball.  _ Are you crazy? _ Eiji was thinking. 

The other girls were starting to look annoyed, and one of them, Sakura, a shortstack with green hair and a pink highlight that was too thick to be playing any real sport, even walked off the court. Saburo called her back angrily, but she lifted her hands up in despair. “What’s the point?” Eiji could hear her say. “She’s better and for that you give her special treatment and act all lovey dovey. Well, I’m done. I’m not going to be humiliated by the likes of you.” 

She sounded mad. Understandably so, since the training did have the feeling of a whole host of girls just being there to serve as fodder for Aimi’s own personal development and exercise. Saburo went after Sakura trying to get her back, but she wouldn’t hear of it. “Well, there goes our second best player,” he cried. “Aimi! Go get her back here.” 

Aimi’s only played it dumb and shrugged. Saburo got closer to talk to her, and when she appeared unresponsive grabbed her wrist. She pushed him back hard, then threw the ball right at his fat head. “Get back here, you ingrate!” Saburo yelled after her as she, too, left the premise. “I swear to god, Aimi, I’ll kick you out of this team.” 

The other girls were just standing there, dumbfounded, until Saburo barked at them to go on playing and chased after Aimi. 

At least fifteen minutes passed, and they still hadn’t come back. 

Eiji took his phone out to check for the time again when a call from his mother came through at the exact moment. “Shit,” he whispered. 

He went as far back as he could and answered the phone. “Mom?”

“Eiji!” she snapped. “Where the hell are you? I’m worried sick.”

“I’m… just at school.”

“At school? You  _ missed  _ your school. Mrs. Kobayashi called and she said you didn’t show up and you didn’t call. They waited for you for almost half an hour. What the hell are you doing?” 

_ Fuck _ , he thought. Somehow, he completely forgot that he needed to go to cram school. “It’s my bad. I forgot.”

“How do you forget?” she went on, no less angry. “Eiji-kun, I’m worried about you. You’ve been acting so strange lately. What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing, Mom, nothing…” 

“It’s because of that girl, isn’t it?” 

_ You bet. _ “No, I swear it’s unrelated.” 

“I doubt that. Anyway, you better be home soon, or I swear I’ll lock you out.” 

His mother hung up on him.  _ Great _ , he thought. As if his life wasn’t bad enough without having her hounding him. 

Aimi and Saburo still weren’t back. 

He couldn’t stay there any longer. And he needed to know what the hell was going on. There was no way to go to the locker room directly from where he was without being seen, but there was a long way around it if he entered the building from the other side. 

He grabbed his bag and moved quickly, trying to avoid attention, though the few students walking down the halls that were late because of their clubs paid him little mind. Eiji went into the other building, his heart beating wildly.  _ What am I going to say if she sees me? I guess I’ll say I wanted to surprise her _ . 

His hands were shaking when he reached the door. The hall was empty and the door was closed, but he put his ear against it to listen. “... know this depends on you,” he heard Saburo saying. 

“Why should I play if everyone hates me?” Aimi snapped back, far louder.

“Because you need them to get seen out there. You can’t play volleyball alone.”

“I already am.” 

Was it just a normal conversation, then? A little pep talk? At this point he expected to hear her slurping on his dick or something.  _ God, I’ve become so grim. _ Nevertheless, he wasn’t entirely satisfied. He pressed down lightly on the latch. He felt the pressure in his hand as it went all the way down, then let it rise without a sound and stepped into the brief corridor.  _ This is insane _ , he thought, even as he took the first step inside. 

Thankfully, that little corridor that led from the door to the locker room proper blocked any view of the entrance from the inside. He tiptoed until he reached its end, then tried to get a glimpse of what was going on inside.

He could see Saburo’s massive and sweat-stained back and one of the low wooden benches bending under him. From his thigh dangled Aimi’s feet, while her head rested on his shoulder with the eyes closed. “I’m just so done with everything,” she said. 

“Now, now, calm down…” he told her, tenderly stroking her leg with his hand all the way down her calf. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Then he hugged her close and let Aimi bury her head in his chest instead.

Just what the hell was this? 

For a second he thought Aimi was about to lift her head towards him and he scrammed, heart about to explode in his chest.  _ She’s in his arms… _ he thought furiously.  _ That bitch. How could I ever have bought her shit? _ A part of him wanted to go back in there and scream in her face, but the other was wondering what she would do in the future. Was she going to continue lying about her relationship to Saburo? That bitch!  _ THAT FUCKING BITCH! I TRUSTED YOU! _

He slammed the door on his way out of the school and storm off to the bus stop.  _ I am done with her for good after this _ , he promised himself.  _ No more; only revenge _ .

If she thought she could humiliate him in this way, then he could humiliate her, too. Pretend that he knew nothing about this and test out her loyalty. 

And why not, after everything she was doing? 

To think that she would be… so cozy with that guy when she whined about him as a pervert the whole time. _ You fucking liar! _ At some point he couldn’t take it anymore. He started weeping, filled with rage and frustration.  _ I almost killed someone to defend you… I… _

“Hey, are you all right?” 

As he leaned against the cold building in the alley, a female voice addressed him. It was rough and lacked the syrupy edge of his girlfriend’s. Sakura from her team stood in front of him, wearing a leather jacket that was zipped all the way up. “I know you. You’re from the other class.” 

Eiji tried to control his tears. “I know.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re the bitch’s girlfriend.” 

The vitriol in her voice made him chuckle. “Yes.”

“Well, I suddenly don’t want to feel bad for you anymore, but I still do. Are you okay?” 

“I just need to get home.” 

“Are you drunk?”

“No.” 

“Do you have cash?”

“Yes.” Tears were coming to his eyes again.  _ How could you lie to me like that? I believed you. Starting a life together? What a sick joke… _

Sakura slapped his arm. It was only a light tap, really, but it was enough to make him lose balance. “You can make it home, I believe in you. Believe in the you that believes in yourself.” 

For the first time that night, Eiji smiled in spite of himself. “Gurren Lagann.” 

She winked. “You betcha’.” 

They separated with a simple bye, and Eiji was miserable to be alone again. 

Somehow, no matter how much he planned to take revenge on Aimi, it wasn’t making him feel better. Just as he reached the bus, his phone buzzed and there was a new message from her. <I MISS YOU SO MUCH AND I LOVE YOU EVEN MORE!> it said.  _ All caps for emphasis, huh? _

The sight of it just made him disgusted. Either way, he wasn’t going to do this now. He just wanted to sleep. <I love you too. How are you?> he sent back numbly. 

There was no response. 

He sat down in his seat and hid his face from the other passengers as he began to sob, knowing that whoever was outside could look in and see him perfectly.  _ I’ve become an embarrassment because of her _ . 

It was almost bedtime and she still hadn’t responded to him asking how she is. He kept glancing at the clock, telling himself not to message her, but broke at 11:21pm and sent one more text. <Baby, are you okay?> 

It was 3:17am and there was still nothing when he finally passed out. 


End file.
